So it’s moving on day today! Packed and ready to go at 10am. I gave Pascale a present to thank her for being so kind and lovely during my stay. I explained to her that leaving home and work and friends had been a big wrench so hers being my first destination had soften the fall a little and I was very grateful. Pascale took the photo of us- hence she is the one looking a little distracted on the photo and not me! I’m so not good at taking selfies!
It was a 4hr drive to Vendôme and a lovely day to do it. I had one minor issue with driving early on in the journey. My satnav said take a sharp left which had « no entry » signs on it so I began to take the next left but quickly realised I couldn’t go down there either (I was trying to get onto the motorway). I righted myself but a car blasted his horn at me (probably quite rightly) and waved his arms and I was a bit shaken up. I wanted to pull up at the side of the road and say « I’m not doing this » but that wasn’t an option! I drove on but kept thinking about what might have happened if I had gone down the wrong road etc etc. I tend to do this. I think it’s called catastrophising? James Acaster describes doing the same in his latest book «Perfect Sound Whatever » The book is about 2016- the year, he says, produced the best music ever. It’s also the year that his life was falling apart. It moves between in-depth descriptions of all genres of music to describing what was happening in his life and how he dealt with it. He says he had a tendency, whatever good may have happened in a day, to focus on what went wrong which, of course is a very negative thing to do. I thought about this as I drove along and thought « hang on, Jane. Nobody was hurt, the sun is still shining and yes you made a mistake. But now you know not to do that again. Also, you’ve done all these things- come to France, driven miles and miles etc etc. You’re doing ok. Give yourself a break! » And I let it go. Thank you, Mr Acaster 🙂
I stopped once at the motorway services to use the loo and ate TUC biscuits and chocolate caramels en route.
The man who owns the property I was heading for in Vendôme is Italian and lives in Italy. He messaged me to say a neighbour would meet me at the property to give me the key. He gave me a phone number to ring to let the neighbour know what time I was arriving. I sent texts but they all failed to send so I rang the number and after listening to a very long message in French left a very very bad message in French on the answer phone!
I reached Vendôme around 4pm and found the place I was staying at easily- phew! Then I waited to see if anyone appeared to give me the key. An elderly gentleman got out of a car and walked towards me. He said nothing but I saw he had a key in his hand. I said « hello are you Michel? » He said « oui » Phew again!
The loft I’ve rented is at the top of a rambling old house. There’s a code for the main doors and then a key to the actual door of the loft.
A thought had occurred to me the night before and that was that I hadn’t seen a sofa on the pictures of the property in Vendôme. But I’d thought to myself « of course there’ll be one! » There isn’t!
Michel spoke no English so told me all about the property in French, all of which I followed, which is great. I must have replied in what seemed reasonable French because then it seemed he just wanted a good old chat, which would have been lovely but I was really tired and was looking around me thinking « mmm, ok, so this is it …… » I just wanted to sit down and have a cuppa. But nowhere to sit and then it turned out there was no kettle either!!!
So I thought « ok, unload the car first » As I said I am in the loft so up 3 flights of stairs- gorgeous twisty, spiralling stairs that are wearing away as the house is so old- but 6 times!!!
Everything in from the car and I thought «I’ll boil a pan of water on the stove for a drink » Michel had shown me how to switch on the gas (a gas canister in the cupboard next to the cooker) I switched it on and nothing happened! Not working, and M has now gone to the Alps until Tuesday!
Then I looked around my home for the next 4 weeks and felt really really defeated. It was grubby. There is a sign above the toilet saying that it MUST be left impeccably clean- and it was. But the rest of the bathroom?! I found pubic hair in the bath and in the soapdish on the washbasin 😦 😦 😦
There were used dishcloths and sponges and half used bottles of toiletries everywhere and the crockery and cutlery all need rewashing before I could use it. Oh dear! I felt very alone and realised that this was going to be a very different experience to the one I had had in Brittany.
I messaged a few lovely people, spoke to Will and felt a little better. I had no appetite so just had (more) TUC biscuits and chocolate to eat; and in lieu of a cup of tea I drank red wine- 3 glasses
I’d shoved the bed against the wall by this point- it’s now a day bed! I hope it’s comfy!!!
P.S. I wrote this a couple of days after the event. It would probably have read a little differently if I’d written it on the day!
Jane’s Tour de Force 